


roses and dust

by poe_toaster



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: 5th year, Angst, M/M, My First AO3 Post, One Shot, Pre-Book: Carry On, SnowBaz, poor baz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:38:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poe_toaster/pseuds/poe_toaster
Summary: Some 5th year angst involving Simon and Baz in the catacombs on the anniversary of Natasha's death.





	roses and dust

**Author's Note:**

> my first fic!!! let me know what you think!

**Baz**

Baz was not in the mood today.

He had hoped Snow would leave him alone, just this once, so he could visit his mother’s grave in peace.

But of course, Snow gave him anything but peace. As soon as Baz entered the catacombs, Simon followed him like a dog. Baz could sense the boy stalking him in the tunnels, keeping his distance but staying just close enough so that Baz could hear his clumsy footsteps and heavy breathing. Almost close enough that Baz could make out his heartbeat. It was usually quite annoying. Today it was maddening.

And he just couldn’t deal with it.

Not today.

Maybe it was time to let Snow catch up to him.

Baz knew every twist and turn of the catacombs, possibly better than his own home. He hadn’t gotten lost in years. He made a sharp turn off into a different corridor, slowing just enough to let Simon catch a glimpse.

When Simon turned the corner, Baz jumped out at him, doing his best growl.

Simon yelped and jumped back, and then his cheeks reddened as he realized what happened. Baz would have laughed if he hadn’t been in such a bad mood. “Crowley, Baz.” Simon’s eyebrows creased.

Now they were facing each other in the darkness. Baz had avoided looking at Simon all day and had almost managed to forget how breathtaking he was, even when his hair was ruffled and he was sweaty from chasing Baz around. His blue eyes were bright and captivating as ever, even in the dark. It only made Baz more angry. _Stupid Snow. Stupid, perfect Snow._ The bronze haired boy was glaring at Baz like he had never hated anyone more in his life. (Which he probably hadn’t.)

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but Baz cut him off. “Leave me alone, Snow.”

It was then that Simon noticed the bouquet of vibrant red roses Baz had attempted to hide behind his back.

“Started leaving roses for the rat carcuses you leave around, have you?” Snow smirked. (That boy should not be allowed to smirk.) “How sweet.”

Baz could feel every emotion cross his face, from hurt, to amusement, to outrage. Without thinking, he said, “Why don’t you come find out?”

 

**Simon**

Baz grabbed Simon’s arm and basically started dragging him into a different corridor. From spending all day following Baz, to having him jump out and scare Simon moments ago, to this, Simon had had enough. He pulled his arm away from Baz and stepped back. Baz seemed to be brimming with anger, violently scowling at Simon. Having never gotten this far before, Simon didn't know if he should run, pull out his wand, call for his sword, or just yell. (He wasn’t sure he could think fast enough to come up with a better dig than the rat carcass one.) Instead, he froze, waiting for Baz to make the first move.

“What is it, Snow? Don’t you want to know what I’ve been doing down here all this time?” Baz sneered, stepping closer to Simon.

It took a lot of self control to avoid backing away. Baz was intimidating in the dark of the catacombs, with the mysterious blood red roses in his grip. He was all ghostly shadows and sharp movements. He was _scary._

“Like I should trust you.” Simon managed.

Baz rolled his eyes. “You’re right; you shouldn’t.”

“You’re probably leading me to a trap.”

“Maybe I am.”

“And you expect me to follow you?”

With a sarcastic laugh, Baz said, “You’ve been at it for so long, I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist.” His eyes bore into Simon’s, setting his insides on fire.

“Fuck you, Baz.” Simon turned around to walk away, slightly nervous about turning his back on Baz, who looked like he wanted to kill him. He also wasn’t sure if he could find his way out of the catacombs without following Baz. Not to mention, he felt stupid for giving up so quickly when he had been following Baz all day. But something in the way Baz was looking at him made Simon want to run back to the safety of their room. Usually Simon was up for a fight, especially with Baz, but today Baz seemed like he wanted to to do more than just fight.

“Aren’t you curious about the roses?” Baz baited him.

Simon ignored him, even though he _was_ quite curious. “Ask someone who cares.”

He could feel Baz moving closer. “Okay, where’s Agatha?” The smirk in his voice was practically audible.

Simon couldn’t help but turn around at that. He launched forward and pushed Baz against the cold stone wall, one hand gripping his collar. “If those roses are for Agatha, I swear to-”

Baz cut him off. “You’re insufferable, Snow. No wonder she prefers me over you.”

Simon was infuriated that Baz looked so calm and collected while he was trembling with anger. “You’re lying, Baz. She could never like a blood sucking vam-”

 

**Baz**

_Not today._ Before Simon could finish, Baz practically growled and pushed him to the ground. “Shut up, Snow. Just fucking _shut up!”_

His voice echoed through the catacombs.

Simon got up, slowly, eyes wide. “I don’t know why you can’t face the truth.”

 _Don’t,_ Baz thought.

Simon continued. “Agatha will never love you, she’s _my_ girlfriend.”

Baz almost sighed a breath of relief. “Merlin, Snow, I knew you were annoying, but delusional too? She hasn’t been able to keep her eyes off me for weeks. I thought it might be time to show her what she’s missing.” Baz made a show of holding up the roses and taking in their scent, obviously enjoying how angry Simon was becoming.

“Give me those,” Simon snatched the roses out of Baz’s hand and hauled ass toward the end of the corridor.

He was going the wrong way, but Baz hardly noticed. He could feel burning, hot anger filling his core. He pulled out his wand and cast the first spell that came to mind, **_“Stand your ground.”_ **

Simon’s feet were spelled into the dirt. Baz watched as he frantically searched his pockets for his wand, to no avail.

“Looking for something?” Baz asked, stepping in front of him and pulling Simon’s wand out of his pocket.

As Simon had grabbed the roses, Baz had stolen his wand without the other boy noticing. When Simon realized this, he called for his sword, which immediately appeared in his hand. Baz backed up a step, out of reach. The glint of the sword illuminated Simon’s furious blue eyes. “Give. Me. My. Wand.”

Baz sneered at Simon, who was hopelessly trying to move his feet from the dirt. “Give me the roses.”

“If they’re so important to you, maybe I should-” Simon held his sword to the flowers.

Baz’s skin went cold, but he tried to keep his face neutral. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not? What’s the problem, Baz? I’m sure Agatha wouldn’t miss them.” Simon was yelling now, shaking with anger, and Baz could tell he was seconds away from destroying the flowers. He had two wands; it should’ve been easy to come up with a spell to stop him, but Baz couldn’t think straight. Simon was looking at Baz with so much hatred that Baz felt like he was about to break.

“They’re for my _mother_ , Simon!” Baz shouted. And then again, quietly, “They’re for my mother.”

Simon paused. After a moment, he said, “....What?”

“My mother died ten years ago today. They’re for her.”

Simon looked at him wearily, but put his sword away. “Why are you in the catacombs, then?”

Baz couldn’t meet his eye. He was afraid he’d do something incredibly stupid; for instance, start crying. “She’s buried down here.” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so weak. _Dammit, Baz, get it together._

“Baz, I’m-” Simon stopped as Baz took the roses from his hand.

He was half tempted to just leave Simon there, sans wand, but he didn’t have it in him anymore. “ **_As you were._ ** ”

Baz handed Simon his wand, and then took him by the arm again, leading him deeper into the catacombs.

Simon didn’t fight him this time. “Baz, I had no idea.”

Baz wasn’t sure if he wanted an apology, or for Simon to keep fighting him, or what. The guilty look on Simon’s face was enough. For the moment.

“I’m going to show you.” Baz said, plainly, trying not to let any emotion seep into his voice. His hands were shaking slightly but he used his grip on Simon’s arm and the roses to steady himself.

Simon stopped walking. “I really am sorry, Baz, I didn’t-”

“No. Come on, Snow.”

“Fine, I’m coming.” He shook Baz’s arm off. “You don’t have to lead me like I’m a dog.”

Baz decided not to comment.

 

**Simon**

As they walked farther into the catacombs, down passageways Simon had never seen (how _big_ was this place?), he couldn’t stop looking at Baz. He could tell Baz was trying to keep his face blank, but his eyes looked so. . . _hurt._ Defeated. Simon couldn’t help feeling guilty, and then he felt ridiculous for feeling guilt over his enemy, and then he felt guilty all over again. Baz was purposely avoiding Simon’s gaze.

“Stop staring, Snow. It’s not classy.” Baz said quietly, without any of his usual venom.

Simon didn’t reply, instead, his eyes fell to the flowers Baz was holding onto like a lifeline. More guilt filled him, causing a pit in his stomach. In the back of his mind he wondered if Baz was tricking him, luring him to a place where no one would find them, but the look in Baz’s haunting grey eyes suggested otherwise. Besides, you could hardly call it  _luring_ when Simon had been willingly following him for weeks. 

Baz knew exactly where to go. Before long, they reached a tunnel lined with skulls that led to a large stone doorway. Natasha Pitch’s tomb was marked with bronze placard that stood out against the grey stone. Simon stood there, taking it in. It wasn’t as extravagant as he had expected. In fact, was almost sad. Simon couldn’t imagine being buried in the dreary catacombs, all alone save for the rats and dirt. Baz was probably her only visitor.

Now it was Baz who was staring at him. Simon met his eyes, unsure of what to say. His usual look of arrogance and poise was long gone, and the sadness and hurt in his expression were fading, replaced by a distant longing.

Baz broke the silence with a quiet voice. “You can leave now.”

Simon nodded. He thought he should say something, but didn’t know what. Instead, he walked away, regretting his choice to follow Baz here in the first place. Before Simon turned the corner he glanced back at Baz, who was now sitting with back against the stone door, roses still in his grip, a mix of hopelessness and desperation in his eyes. With a pang in his heart, Simon realized he had never seen anyone look so broken.

He turned away, leaving Baz alone with the roses and dust.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i've been really nervous to post this but i've read through it a million times and finally decided to just go for it. please leave a comment if you enjoyed it :)


End file.
